


Stuck

by kueble



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, First Kiss, Getting Together, Idiots in Love, M/M, is 2020 a tag, they were roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:48:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27714988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kueble/pseuds/kueble
Summary: Jaskier's not too pleased with being stuck in the apartment and missing his annual Friendsgiving meal.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 20
Kudos: 193





	1. Chapter 1

Jaskier lets out another long sigh, and Geralt peers at him over his laptop. They’ve taken to sharing the dining room table for work, each claiming one end for the day. Jaskier’s side of the table is littered with debris; his coffee mug, several granola bar wrappers, and a scattering of post-its. Geralt’s is relatively neat, just half a protein bar and his water bottle. He watches as Jaskier runs his fingers through his hair, tugging mindlessly at the soft strands, and glares at his computer for the thousandth time today.

“You ok over there?” Geralt finally asks him. He’s been doing his best to give Jaskier space, but he’s clearly been deteriorating all afternoon.

“I’m fine,” Jaskier mumbles before leaning back against his chair and sighing again. He stretches, hands clasped together, and Geralt can hear the soft crunch of his back cracking. “It’s just...you know tomorrow is Thanksgiving, right?”

“Kind of hard to avoid,” Geralt chuckles, “My whole team keeps going over their lack of plans for tomorrow in our daily chat. I’m just happy no one seems to be meeting extended family, because I really do not want to cover for these fuckers if someone gets sick.” He knows Jaskier isn’t big on Thanksgiving, so he has to clue what’s actually bothering him. Hell, Thanksgiving is a stupid holiday, even more so if you avoid your family at all costs like Jaskier does. In all the years they’ve known each other, Geralt’s never even met them. Jaskier’s friends are his family, a fact that he’s very vocal about. Then it hits him, because Geralt is apparently a huge dumbass. “Tonight should be Friendsgiving,” he says carefully.

“Normally, yeah,” Jaskier agrees. He takes a deep breath and finally meets Geralt’s eyes. “And like...I know this year is complete shit, you know? I don’t give a rat’s ass about tomorrow, even though your family always makes room for me. But that’s the thing, isn’t it? You can’t _see_ your family tomorrow. This whole second wave is utter bullshit and it’s keeping me from my friends. We should be finding out if this is the year I can finally cook a turkey properly and looking forward to seeing what Lambert manages to accidentally light on fire at the dinner table. Fuck. I just...I miss Pri and Zoltan. I even miss Yen, though you’re sworn to secrecy on that one,” he trails off in a sad attempt at a laugh and Geralt’s heart aches for him.

“It’s ok to miss people,” Geralt tells him quickly. “You’ve been stuck here with me for most of the year, so you definitely deserve a break.”

“Yeah, sure. Stuck,” Jaskier says weakly. He sighs again and slams his laptop shut. “Screw this. I’m grumpy and I’m not getting any work done. Half the office has fucked off for the afternoon, anyway. I’m going to go lay down and feel sorry for myself. Wake me up later and we’ll sort out dinner, yeah?” 

Geralt just nods at him, wishing he could do something to make him feel better. He stares at his laptop for a few moments before realizing that he at least has to try. He shoots off an apology for logging off early and signs off for the day. His team can handle this. Half the clients are closed this week, anyway. He grabs his keys and wallet before racing out the door. He’s halfway down the stairwell when he grumbles out a quiet, “fuck,” and runs back to grab his damn mask. 

Jaskier’s right - this is a complete shitshow of a year - but he’s going to at least try and make tonight a bit better. What kind of pathetically pining roommate would he be if he didn’t at least make an attempt? With a self-deprecating snort, he hurries to the grocery store.

\--

Geralt sets the groceries down on the counter and tip-toes down the hallway to Jaskier’s room. He can hear him snoring through the door, so he figures he might just have enough time to pull this off. Heading back to the kitchen, he looks down at everything he bought and starts to doubt himself. But he doesn’t want to watch Jaskier mope around for the whole night, so he mutters a quick plea for help to his ancestors and gets to work.

An hour later, Geralt is putting the finishing touches on his meager offering. He’s pouring two glasses of wine - from an honest to god bottle! - when Jaskier sleepily stumbles into the room. He pauses in the doorway, frowning at their dining room table which is currently covered in various dishes. Geralt clings to the wine bottle like a security blanket and waits for the reaction, realizing just how silly this all may seem.

“Did you make me dinner?” Jaskier whispers, his eyes impossibly bright even in the dimly lit room.

“I tried?” 

“Is...is that a rotisserie chicken?” Jaskier queries, scoffing as he walks closer to the table.

“I can’t cook a turkey,” Geralt mumbles. And this is so fucking stupid. Why did he think this was a good plan? He can’t cook for shit, which is why they normally live on take-out and pasta.

“You did this for me?” Jaskier asks quietly. His eyes look wet, like he’s about to cry, which is the exact opposite of how Geralt wanted this night to go.

“Yeah, sorry if it’s not the same, but I did my best. The stuffing is Stove-top and they’re instant potatoes, but I put sour cream in them. I’m fully capable of microwaving a can of corn, though. And I’m pretty sure the crescent rolls aren’t too crispy? Plus I got to arm-wrestle a middle-aged man for the last can of cranberry sauce,” he trails off in a weak laugh, realizing how ridiculous this all seems.

“This seems like a lot of trouble just for the two of us,” Jaskier tells him, and for a brief second Geralt thinks he’s going to be ok. But then all of a sudden Jaskier bursts into tears. He looks just as shocked about it as Geralt is, frantically wiping at his eyes as he stares at Geralt and continues to sob.

“It’s not trouble when it’s for you,” Geralt admits, pretending not to panic. It doesn’t work, his heart pounding in his chest and he starts rambling at his best friend, “You were so sad and I hate seeing you like that and I know it’s not much, but I’m so in love with you that I had to try to cheer you up and -”

Well, fuck.

Jaskier’s eyes go comically wide and he gasps, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth. Geralt freezes, his whole mind blanking as he watches his best friend for any sign that he hasn’t ruined the thing he cherishes most in this world. But then Jaskier giggles - high pitched and manic - and doubles over, wheezing as he continues to laugh.

“Did you-” Jaskier tries to talk, but he can’t seem to stop laughing. He wipes at his eyes and tries again. “Did you just confess your love to me while I’m bawling over a fucking rotisserie chicken?”

“Maybe,” Geralt says, snorting because that really is the stupidest thing he could have done.

“Christ, I love you,” Jaskier says, still laughing as he crosses the room and pulls Geralt into a desperate kiss.

It’s perfectly imperfect; mouths unaligned at first and noses bumping into each other. Jaskier lets out another giggle and tilts his head, pressing their mouths together again. And then Geralt loses time to the soft press of Jaskier’s lips, to the hesitant probing of his tongue as he deepens the kiss. He settles his hands on Jaskier’s hips, fingers clenching as he struggles to remember how to breathe. Jaskier tastes roughly of sleep, and Geralt’s pretty sure neither of them have actually showered today, but he’s been dreaming about this feeling for fucking ages and it’s absolutely wonderful.

Jaskier pulls back a little, but that just won’t do, so Geralt chases him, nipping at his lower lip as he kisses him harder. Jaskier is cradling his head, fingers tangled in his messy hair as their mouths move against each other. He sighs into the kiss, his chest feeling pleasantly tight when Jaskier finally breaks the kiss again and grins beautifully at him.

“I’ve been waiting for this for _years_ ,” Jaskier breathes out before ducking his head and whining against Geralt’s collarbone. “I honestly can’t believe this is how it came about, though.”

“Not my best work,” Geralt agrees sheepishly.

“Whatever. You’re an idiot, but you’re _my_ idiot now,” Jaskier tells him warmly.

And Geralt really can’t argue with that, so he kisses him again instead.


	2. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Woke up and added the morning after because I'm soft for these idiots lol.

Geralt had wanted to sleep in, but he supposes this isn't too bad, either. Jaskier is curled up against his side, his head resting on Geralt’s shoulder. The Thanksgiving Day parade livestream plays in the background, but Geralt focuses on his boyfriend instead.

They'd woken up this morning tangled together, Jaskier half-sprawled on top of him. The other man was gorgeous like that, half asleep and smiling at him in the first light of a new day. A new outlook on life, if he had to define it. It was weird to look at Jaskier with the knowledge that he was allowed to touch him, was allowed to up his cheek and pull him down for a good morning kiss.

He would have been content to lay there all day, but Jaskier had pouted at him and argued that they simply had to watch the parade. "Geralt, it's tradition! I'm not missing the Broadway bit." Jaskier got whiny when he was denied things, so Geralt had just sighed and gone to make coffee.

Sitting here though, he could certainly see the appeal. Jaskier reached over and took his hand, smiling as he laced their grainger together. 

"Do you care if I tell people?" He asks softly, almost like he thinks Geralt might be ashamed of this, which is ridiculous.

"I want all our friends to know, and as soon as Sunday brunch at my dad's is a thing again, I'm taking you and showing you off."

"Your family knows be, silly," Jaskier snorts.

"They don't know you're mine."

Jaskier hums happily, his cheeks reddening as he snuggles closer and holds up his phone to snap a photo. Geralt watches him toss a filter on it and post it on his Instagram with the caption Eating leftover pie and watching the parade with my new boyfriend.

It only takes a few minutes for their phones to start blowing up. "Leave them," Geralt murmurs as he drags Jaskier into his lap and catches his lips in a rough kiss. He tastes like pumpkin spice, cool whip, and promises.

**Author's Note:**

> Come play with me on [Tumblr](https://kueble.tumblr.com/)


End file.
